


the smoke sliding through my fingers

by vindice



Category: Cars (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Other, Snippets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-14 03:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16905543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vindice/pseuds/vindice
Summary: A collection of short-form fics about these two dorks with very much potential. Content notes or warnings can be found on individual chapter headings.1: denial (Post-Cars 2 AU - Doc & McQueen family fluff. Mostly humor.)2: excuses, excuses (Post-Cars 2 - Lightnesco being obliviously domestic.)





	1. denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McQueen tries to help; it kind of backfires on him. (But not really.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #RayIsMyMcQueen
> 
> One has to wonder how high were the creators to have called him Monty, though.

“Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” Ray asks entering the office, because if he doesn’t no one else will.

All this pining between Doc and McMissile and Siddeley it’s honestly getting ridiculous.

But Luigi and Guido respect Doc too much to so much as consider talking, Mater is too busy inadvertently flirting with Miss Shiftwell to notice, and everyone else is waiting for their even more ridiculous bets to come close before meddling in their favour.

“You mean the fact you and Bernoulli are basically married, but you still won’t admit it?” Doc says, not missing a beat. He doesn’t even look up from the papers he’s filling in, which is both good and really unfair, because Ray can feel his cheeks heat up.

Ray ignores it and instead he takes a look at the papers as well, before narrowing his eyes—those are the forms for the next World Grand Prix, the one that won’t be taking place until they confirm with the countries.

“You’re spending too much time with Sally.” Ray accuses.

“I was already spending too much time with her before you came here,” Doc looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “That still doesn’t make you any less married, you’re just living in denial.”

Ray pouts and crosses his arms, because now he’s just making fun of him, and halfheartedly says, “I hate you so much.”

“Sure you do, son.” Doc grins at him. Then he’s shooing him.

Ray huffs and throws his hands up in the air before turning around in time to hide a grin, but not before noticing the corner of a little post-it note sticking out from under the forms, with what looks suspiciously as _Sidd_ and the outline of two numbers underneath trespassing the white of the paper on top of it.

It seems like he has nothing to worry about. Now, he should call Francesco and give him a heads up about this latest development. He’d want to change his bet or maybe he already did, anticipating this outcome, and knowing him Francesco’s going to share his earnings with him.

Ray snickers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m writing human Cars. Yes, I am a coward


	2. excuses, excuses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francesco and McQueen are disgustingly domestic.
> 
> They don’t even notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Francesco alternates between “McQueen” and “Ray” because he’s used to calling people by their last names since that’s how he was raised, but it’s a tell-tale sign that he thinks of him as his given name as much as his surname. *eye emoji*
> 
> Happy new year!

Francesco comes back from running, only to find his apartment not as empty as he left it.  
  
Closing the door behind him, he blinks. While the sight is somewhat unexpected considering it’s just a little before nine in the morning, he’s not exactly surprised.  
  
“When did McQueen get here?” He asks.  
  
“An hour ago,” said blond answers easily, eyes never leaving the screen.  
  
He’s sitting on the couch, legs folded underneath him. One of the few blankets Francesco unpacked when he arrived covers him, and the Oreos he bought on the road for midnight snacking are neatly settled in his lap.  
  
Francesco puts his keys into the key rack and moves further inside, intent on taking a shower.  
  
“Francesco was going to visit after his jogging, you know,” he says, messing up Ray’s hair as he passes behind the couch.  
  
“Yeah, but you arrived last night and I was bored,” the blond swats his hand half-heartedly with the one holding the cookie and a few crumbles fly into his hair.  
  
He chuckles, fingers getting them off before they get lost in the mess of bangs. McQueen looks up at him and their eyes meet, and Francesco ignores the way his heart skips a beat when he sees the sleep still lingering in Ray’s.  
  
“You could have taken the bed,” Francesco tells him.  
  
“‘m not tired,” he protests. At Francesco’s raised eyebrow, he adds stubbornly, “Really.”  
  
Francesco rolls his eyes. “Of course. At least lie down on the couch while Francesco showers.”  
  
Ray clicks his tongue, but nods reluctantly.

 

“So, Francesco was just thinking-”

“Uh-oh.”  
  
He halts in his tracks on his way to the kitchen to look at McQueen’s smirking face staring back at him from the couch. He’s snuggled in the big blue blanket all the way up and he looks adorable. It’s hilarious.  
  
“Really funny, Ray,” Francesco laughs, and goes back to drying his hair with the towel in his shoulders. “But seriously.”  
  
McQueen grins at him. “Okay, shoot away.”  
  
“Francesco was thinking that maybe you could go grocery shopping with him so he doesn’t forget anything.”  
  
“Sure.” Ray answers easily, amusement softening into something almost gentler.  
  
“Great! Francesco’s going to check what’s missing.”  
  
He gets the small notebook he keeps there in case he needs it from one of the drawers, opens the cupboard and starts jotting down what he thinks he’ll need for the week. There are a few expired things from last time he came to Radiator Springs months ago that he’ll have to get rid of, but thankfully nothing worth mourning for.  
  
”Heard McQueen’s friend saying Uncle Finn was going to be around, you know,” Francesco says conversationally.  
  
“Really?” Ray asks distractedly. The sound of the television tells Francesco one of McQueen’s favorite series is on air.  
  
“Yeah,” he nods, opening the fridge. He has to clean it, though it’s a good thing there isn’t a lot to throw away. He always buys just enough to get by for his stay. “And knowing him, he’ll probably be there, too.”  
  
That catches his attention. He knows, because the back of his neck is slowly warming from the intense staring, a sensation he’s long since gotten familiar with.  
  
Ray never notices when he starts, even though it’s a recurring theme. Francesco finds it funny and charming when he does notice, because his reactions are the best in varying degrees depending on where they are.  
  
“Oh?” McQueen’s tone is one of mischief. He looks up at that, and there it is. Ray is looking at him over the edge of the couch, blinking out of his reverie but grin never faltering, and Francesco can see his cheeks blushing endearingly.  
  
He raises an eyebrow teasing him in silence and smirks, but doesn’t bring it up. Instead he says, “Uh-huh.”  
  
McQueen seems to remember something. “But Doc has court today. Some idiot thought it’d be cool to break the law just because it was a small town.” He rolls his eyes.  
  
Francesco is totally unimpressed. “Che idiota,” he agrees. “A pity, too. But Francesco’s sure we can still get something out of Siddeley.”  
  
That gets him a chuckle.  
  
“Yeah, Sidd is the chill stepdad.” Ray says.  
  
Francesco grins widely, eyebrows raising. He looks at him for a moment just so the blond catches his expression before finishing his list.  
  
“Careful, Ray,” he says as he rips off the piece of paper. “You almost sound like you’re taking sides.”  
  
McQueen gasps scandalized. “I would never.”  
  
“Whatever you say,” he laughs. When he stops in front of him, Ray sticks out his tongue. “Let’s go to Flo’s first, yeah? Francesco wants to fill the tank.”  
  
“Yours or the car’s?”  
  
“Both. Francesco knows for a fact he doesn’t have a single drink in his house, and you’ve been eating those dry.” He points to the two-thirds empty Oreo package. “The least he can do is buy you a coffee so you don’t annoy him while he drinks his.”  
  
“What a gentleman,” McQueen says with a fist on his chest, and takes the hand offered to him.  
  
“Silly boy,” Francesco says, but both of them are grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Che idiota: What an idiot.


End file.
